Deviate
by Fruktheworld-99
Summary: Being raised in one of the worst neighborhoods in the country, Lovino finally finds work at a run-down bookstore. One day, after closing time, he hears a noise coming from the back and decides to investigate, preparing for the worst.
1. Chapter 1

Lovino parked his bike right outside the bookstore and locked it to the bike rack. Hopefully no one would steal it this time. He had already lost two other bikes until he finally gave in and bought a lock. He was too lazy to ride anywhere other than the "bad part" of town, and he certainly couldn't afford a car, so he was forced to ride that stupid hunk of metal around everywhere.

Other than the inconvenience of being out of breath from going uphill the whole trip to the bookstore, everything else that day had been going pretty great for Lovino. He hadn't run into anyone annoying since this morning, when he made the mistake of riding past his neighbor's house. Gilbert moved in next to him only a week ago, but Lovino had nearly strangled him sixteen times already.

Every morning on his way to work, Lovino had to remember to go the long way to his job at the bookstore just so he could avoid Gilbert, but this morning he had been in such a hurry that he accidently turned left instead of right when he left the driveway. He regretted it almost instantly. It's not like he couldn't ignore the catcalls and pick-up lines Gilbert shouted; he was the master at ignoring people, but he eventually wondered if Gilbert actually meant what he said. Did he actually care when he asked Lovino, "How you doin'," nearly every time he saw him, or was that something he said to everyone?

Whether he meant it or not, it annoyed the shit out of Lovino, so he did his best to just avoid Gilbert at all costs, even if it meant he got to work five minutes late every day.

Although the ride to work was agonizing, the scenery was beautiful. Well, until he hit the modernized part of it, where most of the buildings were in shambles, and you couldn't walk a block without encountering some sort of drug addict or dealer. He dreaded riding his bike through this part of town, but there was nowhere else he could work that was close enough to ride his bike to, and there was no way he was going to ride the bus every day.

Ignoring the police sirens blaring somewhere in the distance, Lovino made his way to the front door of the store and unlocked it, stepping in to another monotonous day of dealing with screaming children and stupid customers. As soon as he got behind the counter, he heard the bell at the door—the one that indicated someone had just entered the shop— ring several times too many, as if someone was jumping in and out of the threshold.

"Ma'am, would you please control your child?" Lovino was used to these little annoyances by now.

* * *

After Lovino finished his eight-hour shift, the sun was starting to set, and he needed to get home to start dinner, or Feliciano would try to do it himself and make a mess of the kitchen, leaving it messy and in chaos just like he did every time he tried cook.

Lovino stepped out of the store and locked the door behind him, not looking forward to the ride home, even if it was downhill most of the way. He noticed that several more bikes had been locked up next to his, and he was glad it hadn't been stolen this time. His combination for the lock was simple—317—his and his little brother, Feliciano's, birthday. He switched the numbers to the correct ones and yanked at the lock, but it didn't budge. _What the_? He tried again. It didn't work. And again. He tried fourteen times yet the chain still wouldn't come loose. He was about to go back into the bookstore to get a pair of clippers when he noticed that the chain was green, not blue, and it was attached to another bike. _Great, some idiot chained their bike to mine_.

Now Lovino had to wait for whatever genius managed to chain their bike to his and not even notice. Again, he considered finding a pair of clippers or something to break the chain, but he didn't want to piss anyone off, especially not in this neighborhood.

After standing awkwardly outside for nearly twenty minutes, Lovino decided to wait in the bookshop until someone showed up. Inside it was warm and comforting; it was Lovino's second home, and he felt just as comfortable there as he did in his own living room, especially after hours. The familiar scent of old paper and dust made him relax, and he sat in one of the overused armchairs by the fireplace, making sure he could still see out the front window.

He must have drifted off for a while, because when he woke up to a loud crash, it was significantly darker outside. To his dismay, the other bike was still there and just as attached to his as it was before, and now he had to deal with whatever made the noise that woke him up. If it was a robber or something like that, he was going to flip his shit because this was the third time just that week that he had to beat someone's ass for breaking in. He assumed it was probably just an old drunk who wandered in earlier and was still there when Lovino had locked up.

Trying to be as quiet as he could, Lovino grabbed a giant dictionary out of the reference section to use as a weapon if the intruder tried to cause trouble. He snuck around the corner of a bookshelf, ready to slam the book over someone's head, but there was no one, just more books.

"Excuse me… um… sir."

Lovino turned around and screamed. The man standing before him was definitely not there a few seconds ago.

Lovino's scream caused the other man to scream as well. _What the hell is going on?_

"Who are you? We're closed. Why are you here?"

"Sorry, but when you locked the door earlier I was still in here. I didn't know you were closing and you didn't tell me," the man replied.

"Oh. I didn't see you."

"That happens to me a lot more than you'd think."

"Sorry," Lovino mumbled. He was in a bad mood, and he didn't feel like being social with anyone. Even though their confrontation was short-lived, it was still enough social interaction for Lovino for that day, and it was getting rather personal. He just wanted to go home.

"I'm Matthew, by the way." He held out his hand for Lovino to shake it. "Matthew Williams."

Lovino reluctantly took his hand. "Lovino," he grumbled. "Now don't you have a home to get to?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He said goodbye and ran out of the shop.

Lovino stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. He couldn't understand what the big deal was with that little interaction, but it kept bugging him the whole ride home. The memory stuck in his mind as he made dinner and when he lay awake at night, trying with no success to fall asleep.

What about that man had bothered him so much? He had no idea. He wanted to punch himself in the face, but all he did was lay there in the dark, freaking out about nothing.

* * *

Since Lovino didn't fall asleep until 3 AM, he called in sick that morning and slept until noon. He was woken by an over-excited Feliciano, yelling about something.

"Wake up Lovi!" His brother burst through his bedroom door, the light from the hallway flooding into his room, nearly blinding Lovino.

"Fratello, how many times have I told you not to do that," he snapped.

"I lost count after two hundred," he answered, not realizing that it was rhetorical question. "But don't you remember what today is?" Feliciano smiled and jumped up and down.

Lovino rolled over to look at the date on his phone. _March 17_. He hadn't realized yesterday that his and Feliciano's birthday was coming up. He wondered whether it was a coincidence or not that he and his brother had the same birthday, even though Lovino was two years older.

"Oh look at that. Another year of my life down the drain." He sighed and rolled out of bed.

"Please don't be sad Lovi. Ludwig is taking us out for lunch today!"

"You mean that potato bastard is taking _you_ out for lunch. I am not going anywhere."

"But you promised you would go with us," Feliciano whined. He pulled Lovino out of his room by his arm. "You're going whether you like it or not."

"Fratello, you let go of me right now or God help me I will—"

He was cut off by the squeak of the screen door opening and slamming shut. "Hurray, Ludwig is here," Feliciano cheered as he let go of Lovino's arm and ran to the foyer.

"You can tell that damn bastard that if he touches you, he'll wake up without a tongue!"

Lovino sat down in one of the living-room chairs after he had begun to feel dizzy. He didn't know why. He had gotten nine hours of sleep which was way more than he usually got, but he still felt tired enough to fall asleep in that uncomfortable chair, and he nearly did. However, Feliciano came stomping into the living room, dragging Ludwig along with him.

"Feliciano, I have told you several times that I do not want garbage in my living room," Lovino growled as he glared at Ludwig, who, as usual, ignored him.

"Lovi, come on. Get dressed. We need to leave now," he complained, also ignoring Lovino's previous comment. "The restaurant we're going to only serves my favorite pasta until 1:00," Feliciano tugged at Lovino's tattered shirt sleeve with his free arm.

"Go without me. If my boss sees that I'm not actually sick she'll fire me, and I—we can't afford that."

"Alright." Feliciano gave up the argument as quick as he started it and pulled Ludwig out the front door.

After he heard the slam of the door, Lovino immediately stood up and half walked-half crawled up the stairs to his bedroom. He fell back into his bed and his head began throbbing. _Maybe I actually am sick_.

* * *

Lovino woke up to a faint buzzing noise. Recognizing the noise as his phone vibrating, he rolled over and looked at the number that was calling him. He didn't know whose it was, so he pressed _ignore call_ and threw his phone back onto the other side of the bed. His headache had gotten worse, so he got up to get an aspirin from his small bathroom connected to his bedroom with a skinny doorway covered by a blanket. He took a couple pills and sat back down on his bed, only to feel something shaking under his leg. He moved slightly to the left and saw that his phone was buzzing again, with the same number as earlier at the top.

There was no way for Lovino to figure out who was calling him, other than answering the call. _What's the worst that could happen?_ He clicked _answer_ and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Who is this?"

"Who is this? You called me."

"Sorry, I must have the wrong number." _Wait a minute_. Lovino recognized that voice. He wracked his brain for a moment before he remembered. It was that idiot from the bookstore yesterday. What was his name?

"Matthew?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Matthew Williams?"

"Yeah. Seriously who is this? Alfred if this is another one of your stupid pranks, I swear to God I will pour maple syrup on your hair when you're sleeping."

"Alfred? It's Lovino." _Who the hell is Alfred?_

"Wh— ohhh," Matthew said with sudden realization. "You're the guy from the bookstore. Sorry. Your number is extremely close to my brother's," he stopped, allowing the awkward silence to surround them. "I'm going to hang up now."

That's when Lovino made a sudden decision. "Wait!" he had no idea what made him say it, but there was no turning back now.

"What?" Matthew sounded concerned. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

"No. I'm fine. I just… Nevermind."

"Okay?" Matthew paused. "Bye." Lovino heard a click and promptly threw his phone into a pile of dirty clothes on his bedroom floor. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed as loud as he could, wondering why the hell he felt like this. Whatever had just happened shouldn't be such a big deal to him. He often had these small exchanges with strangers, sometimes they were even more awkward, but they had never bugged him like this before.

Needing desperately to clear his mind, he decided that since his headache was getting slightly more bearable, he could at least get dressed. He had just taken off his tattered T-shirt when he heard the front door open and almost immediately slam shut afterwards.

"What the hell," Lovino whispered, as he quickly threw a clean shirt on and cautiously stepped out of his bedroom. _It better not be a murderer_. Lovino was not in the mood to deal with that at the moment.

He walked quietly through the hall until he was at the top of the stairs, where he stopped. He could hear footsteps somewhere around the foyer. It was definitely not Feliciano; he would be stomping around and yelling about Ludwig or pasta. No, it was someone else, and Lovino had no idea who.

Figuring that it probably wasn't a murderer, not in broad daylight, but could possibly be a robber, Lovino picked up the umbrella that Feliciano had left leaning against the wall a few weeks ago. It probably wasn't lethal enough to kill anyone, but he could do some significant damage if the intruder tried to attack him. Holding the black umbrella in front of him, Lovino silently made his way down the stairs, praying for them not to creak, which was highly unlikely, considering it was an old house.

Much to his delight, Lovino made it to the bottom of the staircase without making a single noise or tripping at all, though many of his and Feliciano's belongings were scattered about the steps, making it a hazard to go up or downstairs. Luckily when he peeked around the corner into the foyer, there was nothing. Maybe the sound of the door opening was just his imagination, and there was actually no one in his home at all, but he heard footsteps again. This time the echoes came from the kitchen.

Instead of entering the kitchen from the hallway that led to the stairs, Lovino went through the back entrance, which connected the kitchen to the living room. He figured it would be best to surprise attack whoever had broken into his house, so he jumped into the kitchen and screamed, "What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen, bastard?"


	2. Chapter 2

The man standing on the other side of the room turned to face Lovino, and they both started screaming. For some reason, Matthew was hanging out in Lovino's kitchen, uninvited. He didn't even knock or ring the doorbell, just waltzed in.

"What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen," he asked more calmly this time. "How the fuck did you get in my house? Where the fuck did you come from? Why the fuck do you know where I live?" He asked the questions so rapidly that Matthew never got the chance to answer any of them. With each "fuck" that Lovino uttered, Matthew shrank back a bit more until he was nearly leaning against the wall.

"I can explain," was all that he said in response to Lovino's string of obscene questions.

"Be my guest," Lovino's face was red by the time he had stopped yelling. He was a deadly combination of mad and confused.

"Okay. It was just after I left the bookstore last night. I unchained my bike from yours—sorry about that by the way—and I remembered that I left my cellphone in the bookstore so I ran back to get it, but you had already left and locked the door. I stood there for a while before I decided that I could come back the next morning to get it, so I did. Luckily, when I went to look for it, it was still sitting where I had left it."

"That doesn't explain why you are in my fucking kitchen."

"Oh yeah." Matthew scratched his neck. "About that," he paused. "Your house looks a lot like the one over there." He gestured in the general direction of Gilbert's house.

"What about Gilbert's house?"

"Gilbert's my boyfriend. I left my coat at his house earlier, and I was going back to get it, but I forgot the spare key that he gave me, so I used the one that he hid under the mat. I guess you keep your key under the mat too. You know, that's not a good place to hide it. Anyway, I made it into the kitchen before I realized that I was in the wrong house. Whoops."

"Are you on drugs or something?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Because you just strolled into the wrong house without noticing!"

"Sorry," Matthew shrank back again. "Can I go now?"

"Please." Matthew turned to leave. "Wait."

"Hmm?"

"Why on earth would you willingly date Gilbert?"

"I don't know," Matthew replied before he turned and ran out of the kitchen and through the front door, slamming it behind him.

The only thing that Lovino could do after Matthew left was stand in his kitchen, wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Lovino's headache had returned, way worse than before, and the fact that Feliciano just burst through the door—like he always did—was not helping him one bit. Ludwig followed him through the door.

"Feli, would you please calm down," he sighed as he closed the door behind him.

"But there's so many things to be happy about!" Feliciano ran into the living room, looking for Lovino. "Fratello, we're home!"

"I'm in the kitchen, but will you please quiet down." He said the last few words with a small breath in between each one, in the only tone that Feliciano listened to.

Feliciano stepped into the kitchen. "Sorry, but I'm just so excited," he said quietly.

"That's new," Lovino replied sarcastically.

"Are you going to ask me why I'm so excited?"

"Fine. Why are you excited?"

"Because Ludwig wants me to move in with him!"

"WHAT," Lovino shouted, more out of surprise than question, which he regretted because it only worsened the pain in his forehead.

"Ludwig wants me to live with him," Feliciano repeated.

"I heard you the first time. Why do you… what could even… how…?" Lovino was speechless. This was the last thing he wanted.

"Ever since Mama died, all you've worried about is me. I don't want to ruin your life by not being able to take care of myself."

"You're not ruining my life." Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You barely even know Ludwig. Why the hell do you want to live with him?"

"I've known him for five years. We've been dating for three. I trust him, and I don't want to live here anymore!"

Lovino scoffed, slightly offended. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Ludwig. Where is he?"

"Out in the living room, I think," Feliciano replied. He had calmed down, but for some reason he was crying. Lovino went through the doorway that led to the living room and noticed Ludwig looking at the framed pictures they had on their fireplace.

"Hey Ludwig, I've got some dickish things to say to you!" Ludwig turned to look at Lovino.

"If you're going to insult me now, go ahead," he replied.

"How dare you invite Feliciano to move in with you?"

"I just thought it would make both of our lives easier. You won't have to support him anymore."

"And _you_ will. Do you not understand that Feli. He's…"

"He's what?"

"Ever since our parents died, he's been… different."

"Different? How?"

"I don't know, but he's just not the same; he needs to be protected."

"I am very well capable of protecting Feliciano," Ludwig said as he sat down on the couch. "You know that."

"You're not qualified to make that decision, buddy," Lovino responded as he crossed the room to where Ludwig was sitting.

"Where is Feliciano right now?"

"In the kitchen. Why?"

"Because his decision is the only one that matters."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Fratello, get in here!"

Feliciano nearly fell through the doorway before he straightened himself out. "I wasn't eavesdropping."

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino scoffed. "So do you want to move in with Ludwig or not?"

"I already said that I did," Feliciano replied as he sat next to Ludwig.

Lovino sighed. "Fine. I don't see why not." He turned to Ludwig. "But if you lay a single finger on him, I will—"

"I know," Ludwig interrupted.

"Yay," Feliciano cheered as he jumped out of his seat and grabbed Ludwig by the arm. "Come on Ludwig. Help me pack." He pulled Ludwig out of the room as he spouted about how excited he was.

"I need a drink," Lovino whispered to himself, but instead of getting one, he just went to his bedroom and slept until the next morning.

* * *

Lovino didn't intend to sleep that long, but not until he heard his alarm go off did he realize that it was the next day. He couldn't miss any more work so he forced himself to get out of bed and put clean clothes on.

When Lovino finished getting dressed and eating breakfast and doing everything else he needed to, he was out the door. He walked over to the side of the house where he kept his bike, but instead of seeing the bike leaning against the wall, it was gone, and there was a small piece of paper sitting on the ground. Lovino picked up the small scrap of paper and noticed that there was a note on it.

 _Had to take your bike for reasons.  
_ _Sorry._

 _-Gilbert_

Okay, now he had crossed the line. Sure, catcalling and hitting on him was bad enough already, especially since Gilbert already had a boyfriend, but stealing his things—that was not okay.

He walked up to the Gilbert's door and knocked, then waited a few moments. _Maybe he finally got a job._ He waited a bit longer, and when no one answered, he left.

 _What is going on?_ Lovino considered calling the police, but there wasn't much they could, or would, do about a missing bike, so Lovino made his way to the bus stop around the corner and waited for the bus to pick him up.

He didn't have to wait for long; the bus pulled up only a few minutes after Lovino arrived by the sign. He got on, paid the fare, and sat down at the front, hoping no one would sit next to him. He was not in the mood to interact with anyone, let alone strangers.

He was so lost in thought—staring out the window—that he didn't notice at the next stop that someone had, in fact, sat down next to him.

When Lovino looked up at the man sitting next to him, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course it's you."

"Oh, hi Lovino," Matthew replied cheerfully and smiled.

Lovino closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. "Why do I keep running into you," he said more to himself than Matthew.

"I don't know." Matthew shrugged.

Lovino went back to looking out the window, but Matthew interrupted his few seconds of silence.

"Hey, do you know where Gilbert went. I've tried calling and texting him, but he won't answer."

"No, I don't know where he went, and I don't care. That bastard stole my bike, so he could be dying in a ditch and I would not give one single fuck."

Matthew didn't respond, but he kept staring at Lovino. After a while, Lovino noticed Matthew staring at him. "What do you want?"

"What? Nothing." Matthew looked away, and the bus yanked to a stop. "This is my stop. Bye."

Lovino didn't say goodbye, but he made some sort of noise in response as Matthew stood up and put his backpack over his shoulder.

* * *

The bookstore was a few stops after Matthew's, and it was just across the street from the Lovino's stop. Lovino got off the bus and checked the time on his phone. He still had a half an hour before the bookstore opened, so he decided to get coffee.

The closest Starbucks was right next to the bookstore, and it was connected by a glass door so people could buy coffee, and then come read books in the shop. It wasn't a bad idea, but it always pissed Lovino off when people left coffee cups on the bookshelves and tables and left it to him to clean them up.

Lovino pushed through the front door, making the little bell above it ding. He walked up to counter, too tired to notice who was standing behind it.

"Welcome to Starbucks, what can I— Lovino?"

"What? How do you…" he looked up. "Oh my God."

Matthew was standing there, smiling at Lovino in his green Starbucks logo apron. "How are you?"

Lovino didn't answer. "Just give me my coffee."

"You're gonna need to be more specific."

"Coffee," was all that Lovino responded. He was too tired to care.

"Um. Alright. Coffee." Matthew turned and disappeared behind a big metal machine.

There was no one in line behind Lovino, in fact, there was no one else in the building at all except for him and Matthew. He checked his phone again. It was 7:35, so he still had quite some time before he had to get to work. He could always open the shop early if he wanted to; he doubted anyone would care. It would probably his only chance to be completely alone for the rest of the day because at exactly 10:05 every morning, Lovino's coworker, Antonio, showed up five minutes late, with his obnoxious smile and perpetual happiness. It made Lovino sick, but he had to admit it had to be better than working with that creepy Russian guy at the diner across the street. Lovino went there once, and never went back.

Matthew emerged from behind the silver hunk of metal holding two coffee cups. "One for you," he said as he handed it to Lovino. "And one for me." He took a drink nearly spit it out. "Damn it that is hot."

Lovino took a sip as well, and it was probably as hot as Matthew's, but he didn't even react to it. He liked his coffee black and bitter, like his soul.

For five minutes, it was silent. Not an awkward silence, but a relaxing one, just how Lovino liked it, but then Matthew had to ruin it.

"So, do you like working at the bookstore?"

"Yeah, I guess," Lovino responded, unwilling to elaborate. Again, it was silent. Again, it was just the two of them drinking coffee.

Then they heard the bell above the door ring as a group of high school-aged girls with backpacks stepped through, talking loudly and laughing. Lovino noticed them and moved away from the counter so they could order. He sat down at one of the tables by the big window in the front of the store and continued drinking his coffee.

Lovino was content just sitting there, drowning out the chatter of the teenage girls with his own thoughts, until he noticed two of the girls looking at him and whispering to each other, occasionally giggling. He tried not to let it get to him, but it was hard when they were being too quiet for him to understand what they were saying. He eventually looked away from them and continued to stare at the window until he saw in the reflection that the red-head was approaching him. He turned to look at her. She was blushing and giggling.

"Hello," she said.

"What do you want," Lovino replied in the most annoyed tone he could manage, hoping the girl would go away.

"Um," she giggled. "My friend thinks you're cute."

Lovino was expecting this. For some reason, he was a teenage girl magnet, which became a huge problem considering he was 23 years old. Did he really look like a high school student? Whatever it was, it was annoying as hell.

"That's nice." He got up and walked over to the door that led to the bookstore. He unlocked it and stepped into the shop. Matthew noticed that he was leaving and waved.

"Bye, Lovino."

Lovino didn't reply, just shut the door behind him and locked it until the bookstore opened at 8:00.

* * *

Going to that small Starbucks every morning became a tradition for Lovino. He began to take the bus instead of riding his bike so he could get there earlier and talk to Matthew. Well, that and the fact that Gilbert still hadn't brought Lovino's bike back. In fact, Lovino hadn't seen Gilbert in nearly a week. His mail was piling up in the mailbox, and his yard remained unraked and overgrown.

Lovino didn't worry about Gilbert, though, because he knew he would be back. There was one time before that Gilbert stole his bike—the first day that he moved in next to Lovino— and he brought it back the next day.

To Lovino's surprise, when he checked the side of the house, his bike was exactly where it was before Gilbert took it about a week ago. Next to it was another piece of paper, and again, it had a note written on it in messy handwriting.

 _Thanks, bro_

 _-Gilbert_

 _Bro? That's new._ Whatever. It was better than all the other "compliments" Gilbert used to shout at him as he rode by.

As usual, Lovino ordered his coffee as he chatted with Matthew about anything and everything. Lovino thought Matthew was strange at first, but after a couple weeks of visiting with him, he learned that the two weren't all that different.

However, everything changed one morning. It was early April, and the snow that had fallen nearly a month ago was finally starting to melt. Lovino had spent almost every morning of the last few weeks talking to Matthew. It was all that he looked forward to. Since Feliciano had left a while ago, Lovino often found himself with nothing to do except sit and stare at the wall, bored out of his mind.

On this one beautiful April morning, when the flower buds sprang open for the first time, Matthew seemed to be acting rather different. Normally, on a day as beautiful as today, Matthew would be flourishing, rambling about how he loved the way the maple trees were finally green again. However, today he was distracted. More than once, Matthew took a few moments to respond when Lovino changed the subject of the conversation, or asked Matthew something about his life.

"Are you alright," he asked. Lovino never thought of himself as a caring person, but it was hard not to worry about Matthew's current state when he was usually so cheerful.

About a week after these morning visits became a tradition, the two had started getting off the bus at the same stop, and they arrived at the coffee shop about a half an hour earlier than they did before.

Matthew was staring out the window, his darker-than-usual eyes absorbing the sunlight rather than reflecting it as it usually did. He slowly turned his head to look at Lovino. "Hmm?"

"I said are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," he replied.

They were both sitting at the table Lovino had claimed the first day he came in here about a month ago. "No you're not." Lovino may not be the best at reading emotions, but it wasn't hard for him to tell that Matthew was acting differently.

"Yeah. You're right." Matthew looked up as he heard the door open and saw someone step through. Lovino turned to see what he was staring at. He sighed when he recognized the obnoxious silver hair and red, piercing eyes of Gilbert Beilschmitd.

"Why are you here," Matthew jeered as Gilbert approached their table.

"I could ask the same about him," Gilbert replied, gesturing at Lovino.

Matthew stood up. " _He's_ my friend. _He_ actually cares about me," Matthew said while pointing at Lovino but still glaring at Gilbert. "Now why are _you_ here?" He jabbed Gilbert's chest when he said 'you.'

"I came to get my spare key that I gave you for some stupid reason."

"Fine." Matthew dug through his pocket for a moment. "Take it." He shoved it towards Gilbert, who took it and immediately turned to leave. "Bye. See you later losers."

"I hate you," Matthew shouted as Gilbert left the building and slammed the door.

"Is that why you're so…," Lovino started. "Sad?"

"I'm not sad, just angry. I could never be sad over losing Gilbert." Matthew sat down again, his face redder than before.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Matthew sat quietly for a while before replying. "He… I don't even know why I started dating him in the first place. I knew he was an asshole, but I never thought that he would…" Matthew paused. "I never thought that he would cheat on me."

"He cheated on you? With who?"

"I have no idea. I didn't actually catch him in the act, but I had been suspicious for quite some time. I think he knew that I was catching on because he started acting all weird. Like, he would be gone for a few days without warning, and when he got back he would have such a lame excuse. It was always, 'Sorry, Matthew. It was a family emergency,' or 'I had something I needed to take care of.' I can't believe that I actually believed him. Anyway, last night, I couldn't take it anymore so I upright confronted him about it, and guess what. He actually admitted to cheating on me, like he didn't even care." Matthew leant back in his chair and scoffed. "I just… I'm more pissed off than anything else."

"Well you should be," Lovino responded. It was silent for a while before Matthew spoke again.

"Will you help me find out who he was cheating on me with? Then we can both get revenge on Gilbert, and, of course, you can also help too."

Lovino thought about Matthew's proposal for a moment. It wasn't like they were best friends or anything; they hadn't talked to each other anywhere outside of this coffee shop. Lovino didn't know if he really wanted to get involved in Matthew's personal life or not… But then again, he would never pass up an opportunity to punch Gilbert in the face.

"Eh." Lovino shrugged. "Why the hell not? I have nothing to lose. I should probably go to work now." He stood up. "Bye."

"Meet me here tomorrow, we'll start making plans," Matthew shouted as Lovino walked toward the bookstore.

"Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't work on Saturdays," Lovino replied.

"Well come anyway," Matthew said as if it were obvious.

Lovino couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "Fine."


	3. Chapter 3

"So, I have very little information on who this man—or woman—could be. I know that they don't live too far away because Gilbert was able to get to them on a bike."

Matthew had called Lovino into Starbucks an hour before they usually met, which was somewhere around five in the morning. Lovino almost strangled Matthew for waking him up so early.

"Well what if he rode the bike—which, by the way, was my bike—to somewhere he could get a ride. Like to a bus stop that was far enough away so that you wouldn't notice him," Lovino replied.

"Good point. So that means we have zero information. Great."

"Maybe if you ask him, he'll tell you."

"I doubt it. And there's no way I'm going to ever talk to that sleazeball again if I can help it."

"Well I'm pretty sure I could get some information out of him," Lovino said while maliciously cracking his knuckles.

Matthew put his head on the table and groaned. "I feel so stupid."

Lovino looked at Matthew and awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "You're not stupid. Gilbert is just an asshole."

Matthew immediately shot up, startling Lovino. "I just remembered something!"

"What? What is it?"

He pulled out his phone and started typing something. "If I could just…" he started. "AHA!"

"What," Lovino nearly yelled. "Did you find something?"

"Oh I found something."

"Well are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Okay so… just a second." Matthew tapped something on his phone and showed it to Lovino. He noticed that it was some social media account.

"What's this?"

"This is who we need to find."

"Wait. This is them?" Lovino looked closer at the small screen. The profile picture appeared to be a young woman, in her early twenties. She had long blondish hair and was smiling widely, a hand on her shoulder. Her relationship status said 'In a relationship with'… Gilbert Beilschmitd! "How did you find this?"

"I remember that Gilbert was always talking about this stupid website and I figured he would brag about his hot girlfriend on here so I went to his profile, looked at his relationship status, and there it was." Matthew smiled triumphantly, proud of his accomplishment.

"Okay so let's go find this girl…" Lovino looked at the phone again. "Elizaveta."

"Uhh, there's a bit of a problem though."

"What?"

"I don't know where she lives," Matthew said.

"Well does it say on her profile?"

"Uhh one sec." Matthew looked at the phone scrolling down and then back up. "No. It doesn't." He seemed disappointed, but not too discouraged. "That's okay. We can find out some other way."

"Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard." Lovino stood up. "Anyway, I should get going, my brother is throwing a moving in party at his and his boyfriend's new house and he would probably kill me if I didn't show up for at least a few minutes."

"Oh okay. Bye."

"See you later." Lovino waved and started walking towards the exit.

"Wait," Matthew called.

Lovino turned around. "Hmm?"

"Uh… could I… come with you?"

Lovino froze for a moment, confused as to why anyone would want to go anywhere with him. "Don't you have to work?"

"Actually, today is also my day off."

"Well then, why not?" Lovino shrugged. He doubted that Feliciano would mind one more, especially considering how much he wanted Lovino to make friends. "Come on."

Matthew smiled and followed Lovino out the door. "Thanks."

"You know what? I think I'm going to have fun for once in my life." Lovino smiled as he walked down the sidewalk, Matthew by his side.

* * *

"Lovi," Feliciano cheered when he opened the front door and saw Lovino standing there. He looked up and noticed that there was someone else with him. "And friend!"

"Feli, this is Matthew. He's someone I met at work. Kind of."

"Nice to meet you," he said as he shot his hand out. Matthew took it and shook it lightly while Feliciano had more of a death grip on the other's hand.

"Yeah. Great to meet you too." He laughed nervously until Feliciano dropped his hand and grabbed Lovino's instead.

"This way, fratello. There's food and drinks and it's going to be so fun. But there aren't a lot of people here yet. Just me and Ludwig."

"Good. I'm leaving as soon as everyone else arrives," Lovino mumbled.

"You're no fun," Feliciano pouted as he pulled him into the living room, Matthew following. They sat down on a new sofa pushed to the side of the room. There were boxes scattered about, not yet unpacked, and bubble wrap covered almost everything.

"Feli, why is that chair covered in plastic?"

"Because it's brand new and we don't want to ruin it. Duh." He skipped into the kitchen and left the two in the living room, alone.

Lovino shrugged and started chatting with Matthew again.

"So, uh," he started, not exactly sure how to keep a conversation going. He had never been good with social situations like this. "Um. Do you have any siblings?" Although they had spoken to each other every day for a while, they had never got to this topic.

"Yeah. I have one brother. You have any other siblings? You know, besides that one."

"Not really. Well, I have a step brother that I haven't seen in three years."

"Oh really? I haven't talked to Alfred in a while either."

"Alfred?"

"My brother."

"Oh, yeah."

The two jumped when the doorbell rang unexpectedly.

"I'll get it," Feliciano called as he hurried out of the kitchen with a bowl of chips in his hand. He had some difficulty opening the door with his free hand, but eventually he pulled it open and greeted whoever was standing there.

"Thanks for inviting me," the person said as he stepped through the door. "Hey. Where's Ludwig?"

"Oh. He's in the kitchen."

"Okay."

Back in the living room, Matthew and Lovino had finally gotten a legitimate conversation about food going.

"Wait a minute," Matthew interrupted, head perking up. "I know that voice," he said, referring to the new guest.

"Who is it," Lovino asked, right before someone stepped in the living room.

"Gilbert," Matthew growled.

"Matthew," Gilbert started, standing dumbfounded at the threshold. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I… Uh," he stammered, looking at Lovino. "I'm here with Lovino."

"Oh. Okay," Gilbert replied awkwardly before he quickly made his way to the kitchen.

"Why the heck is he here," Matthew asked to Lovino.

"I actually have no idea." He looked around for a moment before shouting. "Feli!"

"Yes," he replied from the kitchen.

"Would you come here for a minute, please?"

"Sure." Feliciano almost immediately popped into the living room, this time holding a pizza. "What?"

"Why is he here?"

"Why is who here?"

"Gilbert."

Feliciano looked confused for a moment before answering. "He's Ludwig's brother, silly."

"What," Matthew shouted, immediately covering his mouth. "Sorry for yelling," he whispered.

"There's no need to apologize," Lovino said before turning to Feliciano again. "I think we should go." He stood up from the sofa.

"No." Matthew pulled Lovino back to the couch. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure."

Matthew just nodded.

"Suit yourself." Lovino shrugged and leant back on the couch. "How many people did you invite," he asked.

"Just a few friends."

"Okay. I guess I'll stay for a while," Lovino sighed, to which Feliciano cheered and went back in the kitchen.

* * *

Apparently, to Feliciano, a few meant fifty.

"I don't like this," Lovino complained as he scooted away from someone on the couch who had probably never heard of personal space.

"I don't either," Matthew replied, trying to make room for Lovino on the couch next to him..

"If you want, we can leave. I don't think Feli would really care."

"It's fine," Matthew answered, slightly distracted, while glancing around the room.

"Are you sure?"

"Hmm?" He looked at Lovino like he just realized he was there.

"Are you that worried about Gilbert?"

"Ha. No. Why would I care about Gilbert?"

"Yeah, why would you care about me?"

Matthew jumped and turned around. He glared at Gilbert, standing above him and smirking. "I don't."

"Obviously not," he teased.

"Go away, Gilbert."

"Or what?" He sat in between Matthew and Lovino, completely ignoring the angry Italian.

"I- Just go away."

"Nah. I'm comfortable here."

Matthew's face was red, and the expression on his face was not something one would want to run into in a dark alley.

"Very scary," Gilbert scoffed, rolling his eyes. He turned just now noticing that Lovino was, in fact, still there. "How you doing," he asked casually, putting his arm over his shoulder.

Lovino just glared at him and stood up, abandoning his arm on the couch. "I have to go to the bathroom," he spat, then looked at Matthew.

"Me too." Matthew stood as well and they both walked away together, not to the bathroom, but to the front door, and out into the front lawn.

"That fucking bastard," Matthew shouted when they were finally outside.

Lovino was slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst, but he went along with it.

"What is wrong with him?"

"A lot apparently," Lovino replied. They were silent for a moment before Lovino spoke. "Well, I should probably get home. It's late, and I have work tomorrow."

"Yeah me too. Wait a minute. Do buses run this late?"

Lovino looked at his watch then groaned. "Shit, they don't." He glanced around. It was dark and this wasn't the nicest neighborhood in town. "How are we supposed to get home?"

"Well," Matthew started, also looking at the neighboring houses. "I don't live far from here."

"That's great news for you, but I live on the other side of town. I can't walk."

"Well... uh... why don't you walk home with me and stay the night, and in the morning the buses will be running again."

"Really?" Lovino was shocked by Matthew's offer.

"Yeah," Matthew answered. "Only if you want, though," he added immediately.

"Actually, Yeah. That would be great."

"Alright. Come on." Matthew started down the sidewalk, Lovino following.

* * *

It only took Matthew and Lovino about twenty minutes to get to Matthew's house, but the trip there was probably the worst experience of Lovino's life. Not two minutes into their walk were they offered drugs, and five minutes in later were nearly mugged.

Despite these inconveniences, neither of them had died, which Lovino was thankful for, and when they finally got to Matthew's house, he couldn't have been more relieved.

"The guest room is down the hall, first door on your left," Matthew said as he shut and locked the front door. "The bathroom is right across from it, and if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

"Oh. Thank you." Lovino smiled gratefully and started towards the spare bedroom. "Goodnight, I guess."

"Yeah. Goodnight."

Matthew's smile was the last thing Lovino saw before closing the bedroom door. He glanced around the small room. The only things in it were a bed, some empty shelves, and a door that led to a closet. Lovino decided it would be best to get as comfortable as possible, so he took his shoes off and sat on the bed, cringing at the loud creaking sound it made. He fell back onto it and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

 _I could be at home right now_ , he thought.

It was true that Lovino didn't _have_ to go to Feliciano's party, and he didn't _have_ to bring Matthew with him. To be honest, Lovino only wanted Matthew to go so he wouldn't be alone. It's not like he cared about what people thought of him, he just liked having someone to talk to other than his younger brother. However, the night hadn't gone at all like he had expected. A few hours ago, Lovino had no idea that he'd end up at Matthew's house, in a weird room, on a creaky bed, but he was thankful that he hadn't had to stay the night at Feliciano's, with Ludwig and possibly—no definitely—Gilbert. Lovino didn't doubt that the obnoxious German had gotten black-out drunk and couldn't drive himself home, and no one would be willing—or sober—enough to drive him.

Lovino didn't think he would be able to stop thinking about the previous few hours, which certainly wouldn't help him sleep, so he got up to go the bathroom across the hall.

For some reason, knocking on the bathroom door before opening it didn't even cross Lovino's mind. He hadn't had to share with anyone in such a long time, and he completely forgot that Matthew was also in this house. Big mistake.

"Ah!"

Lovino jumped and looked up at Matthew brushing his teeth, a startled look on his face.

"Oh. Scusi!" He immediately shut the door and quickly stepped back into the bedroom, face red. Good thing Matthew was only brushing his teeth and Lovino didn't walk in on anything too bad. He still felt stupid though. _Why didn't I knock?_ He threw himself down on the bed, closing his eyes, willing sleep to come quickly so it would be morning and he could leave and forget all about this.

But, of course, that never happened for Lovino. He must've been laying there with his eyes closed for a good hour, but he just couldn't fall asleep. The harder he tried to get the party, Matthew, the bathroom, everything out of his head, the worse it got. Again, he stood up and left the bedroom, planning to splash some water on his face, but as soon as he stepped into the hallway, his mind went somewhere else. He didn't know why, but he thought it'd be a good idea to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water to drink instead, not even acknowledging that he didn't know where exactly the kitchen was. Despite this, he still made his way down the hall and to the living room, where he looked around.

Lovino must've been more tired than he thought he was, because he immediately registered the light shining through the cracks of Matthew's bedroom door as the kitchen for some reason. He would've walked right in if he didn't hear quiet talking on the other side. He pressed his ear to the door, careful not to accidentally push it open. He knew it was wrong to be eavesdropping, but he couldn't walk away after hearing what Matthew had to say.

* * *

"I don't care if she broke up with you. I'm too good for you," Matthew spat into his cell phone. He regretted ever giving Gilbert his phone number. That was how they met. Matthew had been sitting alone at some stupid club his brother had drug him to. Matthew didn't know that Alfred had been friends with Gilbert at the time, but he could've avoided this whole thing if his stupid brother had left him alone.

Matthew knew he didn't have to give Gilbert his phone number, but he seemed funny, and nice, at the time. _God,_ _I'm an idiot_.

The next day, Gilbert texted him, asking to hang out, and Matthew didn't have anything better to do, so he agreed, and things went downhill from there.

In his entire relationship with Gilbert—the whole month and a half—Matthew had every opportunity to leave, to end it, but he never did, and he regretted that decision.

Of course, if Matthew hadn't been dating Gilbert, he wouldn't have accidentally "broke" into Lovino's house, and he wouldn't have become friends with Lovino. Matthew didn't want to think about that. Lovino was the best thing to happen to Matthew since… he couldn't remember the last time something legitimately good happened to him.

The only happy moment in his life he could think of was when he and Alfred were finally taken away from the terrible orphanage, but that was another story.

Matthew was so lost in thought that he hadn't listened to anything Gilbert had been saying for the past few minutes. He didn't care though. Gilbert's voice was even more annoying over the phone.

"I'm sorry, Matthew," Gilbert tried to apologize.

"I don't care. You could say you're sorry a million times and actually mean it, but I still never want to see you again. And stay away from Lovino too."

"That loser? Why would I want anything with him? And why do you care so much about him anyway?"

"None of your business, that's why. Goodbye."

"wai—"

Matthew hung up before Gilbert could finish.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ahhh sorry it's been so long since I've updated, please don't hate me. I just started school and I've been busy and I've had 0 time or motivation to write so it took me a while to finish this chapter. Anyway, as I said, school has started, so I probably won't be updating all that often and again, I'm very sorry. Also, I hate to say this, but for those of you who have been reading Cacophony, my other story (I doubt any of you have), I might not update it for a while because I can only work on one story at the moment and I chose this one because I have more of it planned out. So, please, be patient, and if you really want a new chapter quickly, reviews always help. As always, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and may the next one be even better!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this one. I've been very busy. Also a small warning: this chapter includes several homophobic slurs and mild depictions of violence.

* * *

Lovino was surprised that Matthew was still awake. He didn't know what time it was but he figured it had to be sometime past midnight. Of course, he had no idea why Gilbert was calling Matthew this late at night.

Deciding that this was none of his business, Lovino tried to step away to go back to the guest room, but his foot got caught in the rug. He nearly cried out as he fell through the door and hit the hardwood floor of Matthew's bedroom. He didn't catch himself in time, and his face hit the floor square on the nose. Black spots dotted his vision as he looked up at Matthew, who had an indescribable look on his face.

"Uh… I—," Lovino stuttered. "Where's your kitchen?" His face burnt. All he wanted was a glass of water. Why did everything bad have to happen to him?

Matthew, still confused, got out of bed. "I'll show you." He walked over to Lovino, who was still sitting on the floor, ears burning, and offered him his hand. "Need help up?"

Lovino reluctantly took Matthew's hand and pulled himself up. "Sorry about that."

"It's no problem," Matthew laughed. "Did you trip on the rug out there?"

"Yeah." Lovino scratched his neck.

"Don't worry about it. Happens to me all the time. Well, it happened once. When I first moved in."

That didn't make Lovino feel much better, but he smiled gratefully anyway and followed Matthew to his kitchen.

It turned out to be down the hall from the guest room and to the left. Lovino had accidentally gone to the right, which led to Matthew's bedroom and a small closet.

Lovino got his glass of water and made sure to apologize again.

Matthew just laughed and said couldn't sleep so he made a cup of tea as he waved goodnight to Lovino for the second time. Lovino just grunted in response and headed back to the bedroom, glass of water in hand.

* * *

Matthew stood patiently in the kitchen, waiting for the teapot to whistle. He was seated on a small stool that Gilbert bought because he couldn't reach the high shelves, and he refused to ask Matthew for help.

He was relaxed and happy that he was finally able to think about something other than Gilbert. However, that something just happened to be Lovino, which was, at the same time, a better alternative and torture.

Matthew still wasn't sure if he thought of Lovino as a friend or possibly more than that, and he was probably over stressing himself trying to figure out if Lovino felt the same way about him.

Whether he did or not, Matthew decided it would be best not to psych himself over it anymore. He poured the boiling water into a mug, careful not to spill it, and let the tea steep. He grabbed the mug and started back to his bedroom, where he would unsuccessfully try to sleep.

However, on his way, he heard the doorbell ring. At first, he shrugged it off. Probably just a side effect of his lack of sleep, but a few moments later he heard it again. This time, he decided to see if there was actually someone there. He stormed to the front door and threw it open, irritated. "It's two in the morning, what do you—" He stopped when he looked up and actually saw the person standing there. Matthew heard his mug crash to the ground, but he was too shocked to acknowledge it.

"Matthew."

"Gilbert."

* * *

 _~Twelve years ago~_

 _"Hey, Lovi, look at this!" Feliciano pointed at the front page of the newspaper. He was at the kitchen table, eating some sugar cereal that would keep him awake for days. He was seven at the time, and he didn't understand the concept of "sugar high." Anyway, he kept on eating cereal, explaining to Lovino, through a stuffed mouth, that a boy from his school, Roderich, was on the front page because he composed an entire symphony._

 _Much to Lovino's disgust, Feliciano didn't even swallow before he started to read the article out loud._

 _"Roderich Edelstein, an Austrian student at Bonnefoy's School for the Artistically Gifted, has agreed to let us interview him," he read._

 _"Stop." Lovino cut his brother off before he had the chance to spit more colorful cereal chunks onto the comic section. Lovino cringed as he tried to read Peanuts, flicking something orange off of Snoopy's face._

 _"Aww, but Roddy is my friend. He's super smart. He says he's going to be famous one day."_

 _"That's great, Feli." Lovino didn't like to be reminded that, while his little brother went to a school for kids with talent, he was stuck at a gross public school. A place where, even in third grade, kids picked their noses and rubbed it on the bathroom walls._

 _They just had to move all the all the way from Italy to America so Feliciano could go to school and study art and music instead of having math and science shoved down his throat._

 _Of course, at this new school, Lovino had had trouble making friends the first few weeks, but then a few new students transferred from Belgium, and they had became inseparable almost immediately. They all had trouble relating to the other kids due to their cultural differences, so they stuck together. However, the only one who Lovino became really close with was Emma. She was in class with him, and they would visit each other's houses after school to work on homework and play and do all of that childish stuff. Lovino remembered Emma's green hairband that she wore almost every day, and how shiny it was._

 _He remembered, one day, they were running around on the playground, playing tag or something, and one of the older kids came and tugged the hairband out of Emma's hair._

 _"Hey," she cried, pounding at the bully's stomach. "Give it back."_

 _"Why? Because your boyfriend gave it to you," he taunted._

 _Emma turned to look at her brother, who was leaning against the wall of the school, glancing around. "Lars is not my boyfriend, he is my brother, now give it back, schijtluis."_

 _Lovino's eyes widened. He didn't speak Belgian, but he knew that that was not something a little girl should say._

 _"What did you call me," the older boy leered._

 _"Give me my ribbon," Emma demanded one last time._

 _"And what if I don't?"_

 _"I… I'll—"_

 _"You will have to deal with me," Lovino finished, finally stepping into the fight._

 _The bully looked at Lovino, sizing him up. "Oh no. Not you," he replied in faux fear. "Now run along, wuss."_

 _"What did you call him," Emma cried, now pounding at the bully's stomach with both fists, but caused no response from him._

 _"Yeah, what did you call him?" Lars had now joined in on the action, behind the bully. He was nearly a foot taller that the brat, being a sixth grader, and he leered over him, giving him one of his classic stone-cold glares that would make even the toughest bully wet themselves._

 _The kid turned around to look at the oldest kid in school standing in front of him. He screamed and ran away, but Lars grabbed the back of his collar. "I think you're forgetting something."_

 _The bully looked at the ribbon in his hand, dropped it, and took off running, crying to the teacher, who didn't seem to give a single fuck._

 _Emma picked up the ribbon and tied it back around her head without brushing the dirt off first. She turned to hug Lars, but he was already on the other side of the playground trying to sell candy to some wide-eyed first grader._

 _"Oh well," she said, then tapped Lovino on the shoulder. "You're it."_

 _"Not for long," he replied while laughing and chasing after Emma._

* * *

Lovino had no idea why that memory had resurfaced, but he didn't really question it. It was honestly the only good memory from his childhood.

Unfortunately, he didn't stay in contact with Emma or Lars after elementary school. Emma went on to middle school with new friends, all girls, and fully convinced that all boys were gross. Lars was a freshman in High School, but he was caught for starting an underground soda business after the school restocked the vending machines with juice and water. He was fortunately only suspended for a week, but everyone still wanted to be his friend. That was, sadly, not the case with Lovino.

He got the lovely fate of spending every morning before school scrubbing sharpied insults off of his locker. The ones that stuck in his brain were the worst. Labels like "Slut" and "Fag" might have well been written on sticky notes and slapped right on his forehead, because it seemed no matter where he went, these words were whispered to their friends, muttered through a crowd, and even shouted directly to him. The only people in the school who treated him decently were the teachers, which also gave the students a reason to call him the teacher's pet. Just what Lovino had needed.

The only upside of middle school was that they had an open-campus, and Lovino only lived a block away, so he could just walk home and eat lunch there.

His mom had her lunch break at the same time as Lovino, so they would sit together at the kitchen table and talk about how well Lovino was doing in school. Even though everyone hated him, he still managed to get good grades. He didn't have anyone to distract him, even Feliciano left him alone.

At first, he begged his mom to let him switch schools, but after the first three "No"s and two "Maybe"s, he found it to be completely pointless. No matter what school he transferred to, the popular kids would find out about what Lovino had done, the rumors would spread, and it would happened all over again.

* * *

 _Finally in high school, Lovino was bullied way less, but no one really talked to him, except for the Spanish exchange student, Antonio, who was the happiest guy Lovino had ever met. He had finally made a friend and was content with just him and no one else._

 _However, it was the first whisper that started it all. From one jock (Lovino was relieved that he didn't remember the guy's name) to another. Through a hushed voice, in the back of a Spanish class, fourth period, he whispered to his friend, "See that kid up there in front?"_

 _The other boy looked up from his notes. "Lovino?"_

 _"Yeah. The other day, I was walking home, and I saw him holding hands with someone."_

 _"Really, who?"_

 _"Antonio."_

 _"The Spanish exchange student?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"So they're both… you know?"_

 _"A couple of fags? Yep."_

 _The other boy looked to the front of the class, at Lovino, and clenched his teeth. "I don't want them here. It could spread it to any one of us. You know we won't be able to play football anymore if we end up like them."_

 _"I know how to get rid of them both."_

 _"Excuse me," the teacher interrupted. "Do you have something you boys have something that you want to share with the class?"_

 _"No ma'am. Sorry," the first boy said, looking at the ground, but when she turned to write something on the board, he continued to glare at the back of Lovino's head._

 _Later that day, Lovino was on his way to meet up with Antonio by the back dumpster. They would meet each other there every day and walk home together. No one knew that they were more than friends yet, at least, that was what Lovino had hoped. They tried as hard as they could to be secretive about it, but they apparently weren't careful enough, because when Lovino turned the corner, he saw something that made him scream. Well, he tried, but before he had the chance, there was a hand over his mouth. He struggled and whimpered, but his strength was no match for someone who lifted weights and probably had more steroids in his body that the entire group of bodybuilders that hung out at the park on Sunday evenings to seduce single moms._

 _Lovino got away from the jock just long enough to shout, "Toni!"_

 _Antonio, or what Lovino recognized of him, was leaned against the dumpster. Bloody and bruised. He was staring at the pavement, his left eye swollen and black._

 _"What the fuck," Lovino shouted before the same guy grabbed him and shoved him against the hard, green metal._

 _"You think you're funny?"_

 _Lovino turned his face away, not wanting to make eye contact with his attacker. To the side, he saw another steroid junkie, this one holding a metal baseball bat._

 _"Did you hear me? You think you're funny," the bully shouted._

 _Lovino squinted his eyes shut, trying to will the tears away. He would not cry in front of this asshole. So instead, he did what any rational person would do in this situation. He kicked the guy in the crotch. He had three seconds to decide what to do next._

 _Instead of running to get help, for some stupid reason he ran to Antonio. The other guys were too busy helping their friend to do anything to Lovino._

 _"Toni," he said, lightly touching Antonio's black and blue face._

 _Antonio looked up at Lovino and actually smiled. "Lovi," he whispered, relieving his boyfriend for only a moment._

 _"Don't smile, idiot," Lovino half joked, but Antonio had already passed out again. Lovino's relief suddenly turned to rage as he stood up and turned toward the band of testosterone and steroids. "Look at what you've done," he shouted, knowing that they wouldn't feel bad, but still, he was on to something._

 _"Are you gonna tattle on us," the leader of the group joked. "Run along tattle tale, go cry to your parents."_

 _"Oh. I'm not gonna tell mine or your parents, or even your coach. I'm not gonna tell the teachers, the principle. I'm not gonna tell anybody about this. But I will tell every one of your friends and family members that you did this." Lovino started toward the lead jock. This was it, this was the moment that would determine his fate. If they killed him for this, he didn't care. He stepped close to the other guy, stood on his tiptoes and full on kissed him, with tongue, making sure to get a picture of it with his cell phone._

 _As soon as he broke away, the group was too shocked to do anything so Lovino blew them a kiss, walked to Antonio, somehow managed to throw him over his shoulder, and walked away._

 _No one bothered the two of them after that._

* * *

To this day, Lovino had no idea how he managed to get away from that with his head still attached to his shoulders. He still had the phone with that picture on it. It was somewhere in his bedroom, in a box, deep in the closet. He was pretty sure that jock turned out to be some junkie, living on the streets, begging for money only to spend it on drugs.

Lovino wished he could forget everything that happened before that, because everything after seemed to go pretty well for him. Fortunately, high school went by fast, but after graduation, Antonio had to go back to Spain, but it was only for a year. Now Lovino worked with him at the book store, but they were barely even friends anymore. Things were awkward between them, and Lovino felt no pressure to change that, so he let their relationship remain simply business.

College was a blur for Lovino, considering he only got a two-year degree. He didn't need anything more at the moment, and he _had_ to drop out to take care of Feliciano after their mom passed away.

Lovino didn't know why he was thinking about all of this stuff, here in Matthew's guest bedroom. It was probably the green paint that reminded him of Emma's hair ribbon.

* * *

 **A/N:** So yeah, a lot of Lovino's backstory here. In the next chapter I want to get to Canada's past and what he's gone through, so you can look forward to that. (May be a while. Like I said. Very busy).


	5. Chapter 5

"Gilbert," Matthew said. The word was filled with every single emotion that Matthew could gather at this late hour. "What are you doing?"

"I… I don't know, but you look sexy." Gilbert smirked. His words were slurred. He was drunk.

"You've been drinking haven't you?" Matthew sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Come back," Gilbert muttered. "I miss you."

Matthew sighed for a second time, longer and louder, more exasperated. "You're going to be the death of me," he whispered with closed eyes.

"Can I come in," Gilbert wobbled for a moment. He grabbed the doorframe to regain his balance.

Matthew glanced behind Gilbert, it was really dark, and all but one of the streetlamps were burnt out. He didn't want Gilbert to hurt himself, no matter how much he hated him, so he just nodded."Sure. But if you puke on anything, I'm making you eat it."

"Okay," Gilbert laughed and stumbled to the couch, sitting down.

Matthew sat in a chair across from him and tried to get him to explain why the heck he was at Matthew's house at two in the morning, a mix of gin and rum and other alcohol lingering in every breathy word he spoke.

"It was after the party at the Italian dude's house. What's his name?"

"Feliciano. He's been dating your brother for a while now." He was astounded that he knew more about this than Gilbert did.

"Yeah. yeah. So I was at the bar, after the party thing, with Alfred, you know, your brother, and—"

"Step brother," Matthew interrupted.

"Yeah, ha, that. Anyway, he started talking about his new boyfriend. He's tall and Russian and super intimidating, but that doesn't really matter at all. Anyway, he started talking about this guy, and it made me think of you. So I called you, and you hung up on me."

"I know what happened." Matthew's tone was cold. This was the last thing he wanted.

"Anyway, I had a 'few' more drinks, and Alfred made me take a cab home. Lame. The driver asked me where I was… Where I was… Hold on." Gilbert stood and ran to the bathroom, and the noises he made in there were not pleasant ones.

Matthew cringed with every muffled retch he heard, and eventually the bathroom door flew open. Gilbert came back and sat in the exact same spot on the sofa as before.

"Where I was going. And I couldn't remember any address besides yours. So here I am." Gilbert smiled.

Matthew stood from his chair, walked over to Gilbert, and, without warning, slapped him across the face.

Gilbert didn't even look shocked, but he still rubbed the red spot on his cheek. "I deserved that."

"You did." Matthew sat back down. It was completely silent, and stayed like that for what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only a couple of minutes.

"I miss you," Gilbert said, breaking the silence but only creating more tension.

Matthew didn't know what to say. He did not miss Gilbert even in the least bit. He was glad to finally have the cheating asshole out of his life.

"I wish I could say the same," Matthew responded. He was, to say the least, pissed off. What was Matthew supposed to do with a drunk Gilbert at two in the morning?

"I don't understand," Gilbert slurred.

"That's a shame."

"I don't understand," he repeated. "Why you think you're so much better off without me."

Matthew wanted to be offended by this, but he just couldn't. There was no way that Gilbert made him a better person. Matthew was definitely headed in a better direction now that he no longer had to deal with Gilbert. "You know what I don't understand," Matthew started. "Is why you think I still care about you. You fucking cheated on me, and you cheated on some poor girl too, I just want you out of my life. Why won't you leave me alone?" Matthew didn't want to yell and risk waking Lovino up, but it was hard not to. Gilbert just made him so mad, so furious. He wanted to rip every stupid silver hair out of his arrogant head.

It was silent again, the only noise coming from outside as the occasional car drove by, most likely someone lost and stuck driving through back roads and run down neighborhoods to find their way.

"I miss you," Gilbert repeated, and through the crack in his voice, Matthew knew he meant it.

"I think you should go," Matthew replied. Letting Gilbert into his home was a mistake, especially at two in the morning.

Gilbert stared at the carpet on the ground for a good three minutes before breathing deeply, looking at Matthew, and standing. "I think you should go fuck yourself."

Matthew had expected that response, or worse. He was lucky.

"Maybe I will," Matthew retorted as Gilbert turned and stomped to the front door, making as many loud noises as he could on his way, almost as if he knew Lovino was sleeping only a few rooms away. He threw the door open, turned to Matthew, and looked at him like he was dying. "I hope I never see you again." He slammed the door.

With that, Gilbert exited Matthew's life the way he entered it: loud, reckless, and childlike. That was how Matthew would remember him, if he remembered him at all.

He had no idea what to do now. There was no way he was going to sleep, not after what had happened with Gilbert.

Matthew stood awkwardly, well as awkward as he could be in his own home, and looked at the items he had collected over the years, all gathering dust on his ten-year-old maple shelves. They were close to collapsing, and Matthew stood there, wishing they would. Half of the stuff on there had come from his relationship with Gilbert: a few framed pictures of them, a vase that Gilbert had made himself that was yellow and said, 'for Birdie,' and several other things that Matthew wanted to burn.

And in that moment, he snapped. He drifted over to the wall, and picked up the first thing he saw, which happened to be a picture of the couple at some random park Matthew didn't remember the name of. The frame was a gift from Arthur, Matthew's step dad. It was a red-orange color and had maple leaves on each corner. That was about all that was special about it, just an ordinary picture frame. It really suited Matthew's personality.

He remembered when Arthur got it for him. At first he thought it was an odd thing to give as a gift, especially for a birthday present.

* * *

 ** _July 1_** ** _st_** ** _, 2010:_**

 _Matthew was so excited. It was finally his fourteenth birthday, something he had been waiting for his entire life it seemed. As he woke, he didn't feel entirely different, as he expected, but the change was subtle. No, it wasn't puberty, as he had thought, but something felt… off._

 _He stood up and walked hazily to his bedroom door, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He slowly opened his door and stepped into the hallway, still feeling as though something was wrong._

 _However, he ignored his intuition and continued down the stairs to the kitchen. He peeked around the corner and saw Francis standing at the counter, phone held to his ear. Matthew didn't want to interrupt his dad's conversation, so he waited patiently by the doorway, just out of Francis's view._

 _It was hard for Matthew not to listen to his dad's conversation, considering how close he was. He was rambling about something in French, his native language, which Matthew didn't speak very well. He could pick up a few words like "birthday" and "important" but not much else. He wasn't exactly sure who Francis was ranting to, but the loud grunt that immediately followed his angry hanging up confirmed Matthew's suspicions. It was Arthur on the other line. What they were talking about, Matthew had no idea. He tried not to look too confused as stepped into the kitchen._

 _Francis turned from the window, out of which he was blankly staring, and looked at Matthew. Immediately, his look of disdain disappeared. He smiled and said, "Happy Birthday, Matthew," in his accented English._

 _"Papa, you don't have to speak English around me. I can speak French almost as good as you can."_

 _Francis just laughed and set the phone on the kitchen counter. "Okay. Whatever you say."_

 _Matthew rolled his eyes and sat at the corner table. He rested his head on his hand, waiting for Francis to finish breakfast. Every year, on Matthew's birthday, Francis made special pancakes. They tasted better than the one's he made on normal days. Matthew asked him about this one day, how he made pancakes taste so much better without taking any longer. Francis laughed in response and just said it was a secret._

 _The kitchen was dark this early in the morning, the sun barely risen, and all the lights remained off. Francis was never one to waste electricity, which made sense during summer. However, when it came to winter, and the house was cold, Matthew genuinely worried for his dad and him._

 _It was a small house that the two of them lived in, alone. It wouldn't take much to heat it. Matthew knew they weren't rich. They were far from it. He also knew Francis worked hard to support the two of them, taking as many hours at work as he could. Matthew was home alone a lot, which never really bothered him._

 _However, sometimes, when it was dark, and the house made strange noises, Matthew wished he had someone else. That was probably why he refused to give up his imaginary friend until he was ten. He still would probably never give up his plush polar bear he had gotten the day he was born._

 _Matthew had never got to know his real mom. She had died while giving birth, but Francis talked about her a lot, almost too much. He knew that they shared the same personality, as Francis described too often._

 _"Are the pancakes almost done," Matthew asked, trying to forget about his mom and the worries he had for his father._

 _Francis hummed in response and brought a plate to the table. He served the pancakes and then sat across from Matthew._

 _"Do you not have to be in early for work today?" It was a rarity for Matthew to eat dinner with his father, especially on a Thursday... or any other week day._

 _"I took today off. It's your birthday. I thought it would be fun to spend some time together."_

 _"Oh." Matthew didn't know how to feel about this. He was happy to be spending the day with his dad. It had been a while since they had an entire day to themselves, but that meant Francis would have a lot of overtime later in the week. "So who were you on the phone with?" Matthew didn't want to seem rude, but his curiosity got the better of him._

 _"Arthur," Francis replied. "He told me to wish you a happy birthday for him."_

 _"Oh. Tell him I said thanks." Matthew smiled and quickly ate his pancakes before they got cold._

 _It was quiet for a moment before Matthew got curious again. "So, what were you guys talking about?"_

 _"Not much. Just what we normally talk about."_

 _"I couldn't help but notice you sounded a bit angry." Matthew hated how he was acting, but he was not satisfied with Francis's answer._

 _"Oh, just the usual. We argue a lot. You know this."_

 _"I know." Matthew looked down and pretended to be super interested in the pattern on the table._

 _"Is something wrong?"_

 _"No. I just want to know what you were arguing about."_

 _"Nothing to do with you. We can talk about it later. For now, is there something you would like to do today?"_

 _Matthew ate the last bit of pancake and thought for a moment. "Well, there is one thing."_

* * *

 _Francis and Matthew sat next to each other on an intricately carved bench along the thin pathway. This was their favorite park in town, especially during this time of the year. The leaves were the greenest they've ever been, and the sun was shining, reflecting off of the morning dew. The grass surrounding them almost appeared to be covered in a million little stars._

 _"So," Matthew started, the silence between them beginning to feel awkward. "What were you two talking about? On the phone earlier?"_

 _Francis broke his gaze away from the rising sun. "Oh. Yes. That. I will tell you. Just promise you will not get too upset. Please."_

 _Matthew was getting anxious. Why would he get upset? "I promise."_

 _"Thank you," Francis replied. He then turned to face Matthew and without wasting time, he said, "Arthur wants us to move in with him and Alfred."_

 _"What!" Matthew stood up, completely surprised by this news._

 _"Matthew, please sit down." Francis grabbed his son's arm and pulled him back onto the bench._

 _"You haven't even known each other that long. How could… how can…" This was the last thing Matthew wanted at the moment. If they moved, Matthew would have to switch schools. He'd have to make new friends, something he was not good at. Worst of all, he'd have to put up with Alfred every single day._

 _Matthew didn't mind seeing Alfred once a month or every other week, but there was no way he could deal with the annoying teen on a daily basis._

 _Matthew had to stop this at any cost._

 _"I know this is weird, but Arthur insisted. He knows about our… financial situation. He wants to help."_

 _"Yeah. Help by ruining my entire life!" Matthew wasn't trying to sound this selfish, but he was frustrated._

 _Francis sighed. "I am sorry. I care about you, Matthew."_

 _The frazzled teenager had finally calmed down enough to be civil. "I know you do, papa. I'm sorry."_

 _"I also have more bad news."_

 _Matthew looked up, his anxiety becoming worse as his father avoided his eyes._

 _"I was fired from my job. They couldn't afford to keep me, along with a few others."_

 _His vision distorted by tears, Matthew couldn't make out the expression on his father's face, but he knew it was something that would make him even sadder._

 _"Okay," Matthew whispered. "It's gonna be okay." He wrapped his arms around his father and comforted him until the sun was suspended all the way above the horizon._

 _Although this wasn't one of his best, it certainly wasn't Matthew's worst birthday. Not by far._

* * *

 _On the walk back home, Francis's head perked up and he gasped. "I almost forgot," he started before reaching into his pocket. In his hand was a small rectangular package, about the size of a small book. "Arthur got this for you. For your birthday."_

 _It was wrapped simply with only white tissue paper and thin red ribbon to keep it from opening._

 _Matthew took it from Francis and smiled to himself. He couldn't tell what it was, but it didn't weigh much. He decided to wait until he got home to open it._

* * *

 _Sitting in the living room, Francis was grinning as he watched Matthew open his gifts. There weren't many to open, but he tried his best to get Matthew everything he wanted, which, fortunately, wasn't too much._

 _Matthew became more excited with every gift he opened: a hockey stick (he knew it was probably a hand-me-down, but it didn't matter to him), a new sweatshirt, and a DVD of a season from his favorite TV show. He couldn't have been happier._

 _When he got to the gift from Arthur, Francis's expression turned from excitement to curiosity. Arthur didn't tell Francis what it was that he got when he told him to give it to Matthew. He hoped it was appropriate._

 _Matthew had successfully removed the tissue paper, and for a moment, there was a look of confusion on his face. He realized that it was a picture frame, but why? It was an odd gift, but he was grateful for it, so he smiled and promised he would thank Arthur the next time he saw him._

 _"Are you happy with your gifts," Francis asked eagerly._

 _Matthew nodded profusely. "Thank you very much." He hugged Francis and ran to grab his camera. He wanted to put his new picture frame to use so it could collect dust on his shelf, but still mean something to him._

* * *

 ** _Present Day:_**

The picture frame brought back so many previously forgotten memories that Matthew didn't realize his eyes were starting to tear up. Once again, he glanced at the picture in the frame. Gilbert was happy. Matthew was happy. They thought they'd be happy. They were wrong.

And out of nowhere, Matthew threw the frame to the ground with all the force of his anger. It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces of orange and red, along with shards of glass, but the photo remained undamaged. He grabbed it off of the ground and tore it up, letting the flakes of paper float to the ground and join the other mess of Matthew's past.

Looking at the pile on the floor, his knees gave out along with whatever had been keeping him from crying, and he sank to the ground, where he became the sobbing mess he once promised himself he would never be again.

He looked back up at the unstable shelves, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than for them to fall down on top of him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ahh. It's been so long since I've updated. I apologize, but school has really taken up the majority of my time, so I haven't been able to write as much as I would like to. Hopefully I'll be updating more often, but I never know what might come up. So again, sorry and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
